


Two Birds With One Stone

by 3rnest



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Ham Common (Raffles), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 22:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rnest/pseuds/3rnest
Summary: Raffles and Bunny have felonious plans for the evening, but Bunny finds the warmth of the fire and the nearness of his beloved to be so awfully cosy...





	Two Birds With One Stone

There was a house to burgle on the riverside. A prosperous retired colonel was its owner; recently widowed, he lived mostly secluded between his decorated walls with the sole and infrequent company of his youngest heir. Raffles had learned, in his own professional ways, that the pater familiae slept very little during the night despite the aid of heavy spirits. For his part, the prodigal son (a heavily mustached youth, soon to be married) would habitually dine in the city, and he rarely returned to the paternal home before dawn; indeed, often he would stay in London for days. The only problem we would have to face, then, was the old man’s insomnia. 

As can be seen, the challenge wasn't altogether a particularly dangerous one, but we were no longer reckless youths. We were content to put aside our designs on the house for a better time; after all, our colonel wasn’t the only prosperous gentleman in the planes of greater London.

That is, until one evening when, upon entering our sitting room after an unimportant commission in town, I found Raffles waiting for me with a sparkling grin that spoke of victory. 

On the following Friday, he began to explain while I still had my hat in my hands, Mr. Insomnia would be in London for a rare dinner party with old comrades, and was not expected to return before midnight - therefore leaving the house mostly unguarded. Well, we drank to the happy news! 

The deed, we decided, was to be carried out between ten and eleven o’clock. We would then flee the scene like dark shooting stars, with silver in our pockets.

When the fated Friday came, Raffles and I spent the afternoon reconnoitring the premises of our friend’s modest country house. The garden was immense: italian style, as grand as a rich man’s garden in Surbiton dares to be. Naturally, the weak point of this sort of house, as I have said elsewhere, is the pantry window. These and other ascertainments made, we were pedalling towards home as the sky began to change colours around us; we were bathed in a faint golden light as we took our loyal bicycles to their customary place beside the house, ready for the night’s adventure.

After dark, our kind landlady brought us an early supper: a lovely soup, pudding, and red wine. It was an excellent reward after our ride along the misty Thames. January had given us a sharp, cold evening, but our rooms remained cosy as ever. Raffles' long leg was brushing against mine under the table when Mrs Fisher wished us both goodnight and left us alone. 

The clock struck half past seven; dull waiting stretched ahead of us, so I picked up my novel and sat on the sofa, determined to enjoy it. While I read, I could hear the quiet noises of Raffles carefully preparing our burglar’s kit, and revising for one last time his maps and schemes. As usual, I would wilfully follow where he led. 

I lost track of time. My book had become rather tedious, but it kept my mind preoccupied and my anxiety at bay. I couldn’t have said for how long I’d been reading, when suddenly my friend’s voice brought my eyes back to him: “We shall leave in about one hour, Bunny.” 

He poked at the fire and, once satisfied, he joined me. 

“I reckon that’s enough time for you to finish your book,” he smiled, offering me a puff on his half finished cigarette. I smiled back through the smoke, and settled my head on his shoulder. 

“Like killing two birds with one stone,” I hummed in playful agreement. “I'd hate to leave a book pending the resolution of its last chapter... not knowing how it ends, and in the midst of a climax, too! It wouldn’t be of any help to my nerves.”

He chuckled, and pressed his cheek to my head. “I would blindly trust your nerves under any condition, my dear rabbit.”

My heart swelled, for I knew he meant it. I pressed myself closer to him; then came a comfortable silence. I resumed my reading, and minutes slowly danced away. Soon, to my surprise, and in spite of the nervous excitement that always simmered in my heart before a job, I felt my eyelids begin to droop. I suddenly found I could no longer keep my eyes open. Stubbornly my eyes tried to follow the printed words on the page, but my brain refused to make any effort to understand what was being narrated. I blamed my unexpected drowsiness on the wine and feared I would fall asleep and forget about our plans; but, I reasoned, if that were to happen, Raffles would surely wake me up in due time. That thought was enough to reassure me. I allowed my eyes to close. 

I felt as if embraced by an ancient warmth: the fire crackling, illuminating the room in comforting hues, and warming us in our borrow against the harsh winter outside; the soothing presence of my dearest friend in the world, pressed to my side …

I suppose I must have dozed off then. The next thing I knew was Raffles’s arm firm around my shoulders, his dear old hand caressing my hair in a most tender manner. 

My eyelashes fluttered. I tried to keep my breath even and to feign sleep, at first; to bask in the beauty of his touch. I wanted to hold him, but I daren’t move for fear of ruining a perfect moment. 

It must be said that, in our home in Ham Common, Raffles and I were as close as any man and wife. And yet (although, as I have said elsewhere, there were fewer secrets between us than ever) my dear companion retained his secretive nature. Needless to say, I had attuned my soul to his particular character long ago, and I lived in perfect happiness in our new idyllic arrangement. Still, my heart flew out to him every time he would openly show me his love and devotion; as it did without fail that winter evening.

The melodic chiming of the clock shook me from my reverie. I counted: eight, nine, ten… it readily came to me that the hour must be getting very late. I began to raise my head, and with regret I felt Raffles’ hand slowly draw away, and his embrace loosen a little. But when I caught his eye, intent on speaking to him, the sight of him had my heart beat furiously all over again. 

His face was relaxed, his eyes kind and twinkling, watching me quietly as if he’d been doing nothing else for hours. My intention died in my throat - I was utterly entranced. My lips must have been parted in amazement. When together we moved to kiss, I could have melted; I could have died in his arms, but happier than Danae on her bed of gold. His mouth followed mine even as I drew back, in such a simple gesture of quiet longing that for a moment I felt my chest so tight I thought it would burst out of sheer love and affection for the man next to me. 

The warmth had transformed into the proper flame of epic poems.

After a few perfect moments of breathlessly looking into each other's eyes, his as deep as the rippling sea, I finally found myself able to think again.

"Shouldn't we be going?" I murmured, hand resting on his thigh. He smiled and gave a halfhearted shrug. 

"It’s too late; we’ve lost our momentum,” he said, with a kind tone, almost amused. I frowned, and he touched my hair again. “I've been awake all this time, but I couldn't bring myself to wake my sleeping rabbit." He winked.

"Oh. I'm sorry,” I said stupidly. He shook his head with a chuckle, and for a moment I could do nothing but blink up at him. 

“Why didn't you wake me?" Came my contrite voice, veiled with sleep. "After all our preparations earlier today!” 

He kissed my forehead then, silencing me effectively. When he spoke again, he did so in what was little more than a gentle whisper: “Shush, you silly rabbit.” 

He squeezed my arm, then he removed himself from my side. I watched him raise himself to his feet and stretch, not without apprehension - I had let him down again! But he only smiled down at me, and held out his beautiful hand. “Come to bed now, will you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is the first fic I post in... 150 years... and the first one in english! So thanks Raffles and Bunny for inspiring me to write again! Also, special thanks to River, Leah and Anna for helping me with this!!!


End file.
